'And Valentine's boyfriend is in the play too,' Piers carried on, oblivious to any discord. 'So we can all go together. It's Jack Hart, isn't it? Great name for a movie actor.'
'Jack Hart?' Olivia said, 'That name sounds familiar. Yes, I remember. I saw a picture of him in some magazine with Tamara.'
'Did you?' Valentine asked, slightly rattled. 'Was it about the play?' Jack hadn't mentioned that he'd been interviewed.
'Actually I've got it on me.' She reached into her pink Hermès Birkin bag, which Valentine knew cost thousands, and pulled out a copy of Grazia.
Valentine froze as she took in one of the headlines on the cover: 'Does Tamara have a new leading man?' She suddenly felt sick. There was a whole article devoted to Tamara's stage appearance. That didn't concern Valentine, though ordinarily it would have got right up her nose. It was the picture that was holding her attention right now. The picture of Tamara and Jack sitting outside a cafe, laughing together and looking intimate. The strapline underneath it named Jack and there was a quote from Tamara's agent saying there was a new man in her life but it was early days and she was not prepared to name him. However the juxtaposition of the photograph and the comment made it clear what conclusion people were supposed to draw. How stupid she'd been to trust him. She was a complete and utter idiot. She should have realised there was something going on when he started defending Tamara. With some effort she dragged her eyes away from the magazine. Olivia and Saul were watching her intently to gauge her reaction. Self-preservation kicked in; she wasn't going to let these two know how this really made her feel.
'Oh, Jack's been helping her out with the play. Apparently the actor playing Lear has been giving her a hard time because she hasn't done much stage work and has been saying that she can't act.'
'Oh,' Olivia replied. And it was interesting just how much meaning could be conveyed in that tiny word. Olivia's 'oh' read like You silly, stupid girl, he's shagging her. You're history.
'If you'll excuse me, I'm going to find the bathroom,' Valentine said as calmly as she could.
As soon as she was out of sight she practically sprinted to the ladies', where she locked herself in the cubicle and promptly threw up her lunch. Probably this was the only thing she had done so far that Olivia would approve of. She scrambled in her bag for her phone and called Jack. No answer. He was either rehearsing or shagging Tamara Moore in her penthouse apartment. Silly, stupid Valentine. Of course he was going to be interested in Tamara, with her glittering career and beauty. Men didn't care about massive arses if the rest of the package was so slim. Hadn't he said that he loved Valentine's backside? And that was more of a J-Lo than a Li-Lo. She left a garbled message about seeing the magazine and needing to speak to him urgently. She closed her eyes and tried to chant Lauren's core-of-steel mantra. No good. She felt crushed. But somehow – the lack of steel notwithstanding, she managed to pull herself together. She went through the motions of repairing her make-up, then slowly walked back to the table.
'Are you OK Valentine?' Piers asked, sounding concerned.
'I expect she had a phone call to make,' Saul put in. God, he was horrible. A chinos-wearing poisonous toad.
'Actually my agent rang; I've got an audition tomorrow. Would you mind if I left now, so I can prepare?'
'What's it for?' Olivia asked.
'Just a small role in a new Jane Austen TV drama.' Oh God, they'd all been done, hadn't they? Why did she say that?
'And who's directing it?' Olivia carried on.
Valentine shook her head. 'I didn't ask, actually.'
'Well you should find out. It's important, isn't it, Piers? Now Valentine is associated with you.'
Piers shrugged. He seemed embarrassed by Olivia's comment.
'I probably won't even get it,' Valentine replied, desperate to get out of there.
'Well, with that attitude you won't!' Saul put in. A chinos-wearing poisonous motherfucker of a toad. Valentine ignored him.
'Thanks for lunch, Piers,' she said, putting out her hand to shake his. 'Lovely to meet you, Olivia, and you, Saul.'
She scuttled out of Nobu at high speed, but just outside walked straight into Julia Turner arm in arm with a very good-looking young male companion. Jack Mark Two. Were there no other restaurants in London that a successful stage actress could have gone to with her latest arm candy? Bloody Julia husky Turner! She was all set to ignore her but Julia had seen her. She waved a copy of Grazia at Valentine. 'Interesting reading, Valentine.'
'I'm in a rush actually, Julia.'
'A word of advice – I've known Jack far longer than you and one thing you might not be aware of is just how ambitious he is. He probably kept that side of himself under wraps as he was in an off-West End play. But he wants to make it. And I think he'll do whatever it takes to get there. I was useful to him for a while, you were a diversion and now he's got Tamara. You have to agree it's a perfect match.'
Valentine so wanted to make a cutting remark, but she was too hurt. All she could do was repeat that she had to go and walk away from Julia as quickly as she could. She was in complete turmoil. She couldn't face going home to an empty flat and she knew Lauren was at a casting. As soon as she was far enough away from Nobu, she phoned Jack again. No reply. Now on top of the hurt she was starting to feel angry. She stormed through Mayfair, cried all the way down Oxford Street and ended up in Soho Square. The bright sunshine, the people lying on the grass, chatting and having lunch, seemed to mock her. She phoned Kitty, Rufus and Toby and got their voicemails. She phoned three more friends, also on voicemail. And finally she called Finn. 'Can I see you?'
On the journey to Richmond she kept hoping that Jack would ring. He didn't. It was five in the afternoon – Jack must have had a break from rehearsals by now; he must have got her messages. There could only be one possible reason for him not replying to her. He was Tamara Moore's new leading man. He just didn't have the guts to tell her. Valentine's self-esteem plummeted to an all-time low. Jack didn't want her anymore. It was such a beautiful June evening, the horse chestnuts in full bloom, the gardens backing on to the river a riot of colourful flowers, the river glinting in the last rays of the sun. But Valentine was blind to the scenery.
Finn was already sitting at a table outside the pub by the river. As soon as he saw her he took her in his arms and held her tight. 'Poor V, sit down and tell me all about it. I've got you a double vodka. I thought you might need it.'
Valentine slumped next to him. 'I just can't believe Jack would do this to me. He made such a big deal about how I could trust him and it was all fucking lies!' She rapidly drank the vodka and Finn went to get more drinks. Right now, self-medication with alcohol seemed like the only option. She kept checking her mobile. No message from Jack. She tried texting – Saw the magazine. Have to speak to you. She was well on the way to becoming drunk, a dangerous thing to be around Finn, but she couldn't stop. She felt as if there was a demon of rage and hurt inside her waiting to explode.
'And with Tamara fucking Moore of all people!' she exclaimed as soon as Finn returned from the bar.
'Don't let it get to you V, he's not worth it,' Finn said soothingly.
Valentine was in no mood to be pacified. 'I mean, I expect that behaviour from someone like you!'
'Oh, you mean a gutless bastard who nearly destroyed you,' Finn said dryly. Lauren had told Finn that to his face. 'I am sorry about what I did, V. Truly.' He put his arm round her. 'And if you let me get a word in edgeways I can tell you my big news. I've split up with Eva.' He paused for extra effect. 'The engagement's off. Forget about Jack. We're meant to be together. I won't let you down again, I swear. I want you, V, always have done, always will.'
'Really?' Valentine struggled to take on board what Finn was saying.
'I love you, V.' And he kissed her.
Valentine let him make all the moves and then she kissed him back. Jack was probably kissing Tamara and the rest. He didn't want Valentine any more; she had just been a distraction easily dis
carded when someone better came along. Valentine was beyond being rational and reflecting that of course Julia would say anything to make her feel bad. More drinks followed, then more drunken snogging. And when Finn suggested that they went back to his flat, she hesitated only long enough to check her phone, still hanging on to the fragile hope that Jack would have left a message saying it was all a horrible mistake. There was nothing. By now it was last orders. Well, fuck him. She wasn't going to sit around being a victim. She switched her phone off.
It was hot, desperate, feverish sex. She pulling off his T-shirt, unbuttoning his jeans, he ripping off her underwear, lifting up her dress and driving into her, grabbing her wrists and holding them over her head, kissing and biting her breasts, she raking her fingers down his back. She ordering him to change positions, with her on top, then him changing again.
'I fucking love you,' he panted, thrusting into her.
'Then fuck me harder,' she gasped. And with every thrust it felt as if she was being wrenched away from Jack, away from the tender, sensuous, passionate sex they'd had. This was hard, selfish sex, both wanting to get their satisfaction first and despite the waves of pleasure pulsing through Valentine, when she came it felt like the end of something. It felt like a destruction.
'Where the fuck have you been?' Lauren demanded as Valentine let herself into the flat the following morning. 'We've all been out of our minds with worry about you! Couldn't you have phoned?'
Valentine shrugged, too hungover and too disconsolate to speak. She trudged into the kitchen and put the kettle on. She had regretted her night with Finn as soon as she had woken up.
Lauren followed her, arms folded, looking like she meant business. 'Jack rang, desperate to speak to you. He left his mobile behind when he went to rehearsal and came back to all these messages from you. He's on the train now.'
'Oh, so he's managed to drag himself away from Tamara, has he?' Valentine said bitterly.
'What are you on about? There's nothing going on between him and Tamara! He told me about that magazine article; it was a complete fabrication. A fantasy on Tamara's part.'
Valentine suddenly felt very wobbly. She sat down at the table.
'Where have you been, V?' Lauren persisted.
She looked down at her hands as if she could somehow avoid the question. But there was no getting away from it. She couldn't lie. 'I've been with Finn,' she said flatly.
Lauren's mouth fell open in astonishment; she couldn't even say her mantra.
'I slept with him. I thought Jack was having an affair with Tamara Moore, so I thought I may as well.' Her voice was cold and robotic. She was in shock.
Now Lauren had put her hands up to her mouth. 'You are joking, aren't you?'
Valentine shook her head.
'Jack will be here in an hour. What are you going to tell him?'
'The truth,' Valentine replied, giving a bitter little smile. 'I've always hated liars. I wouldn't do that to Jack.'
'Oh V,' Lauren said with feeling. 'What a bloody mess.'
Valentine felt numb in the hour before Jack arrived. She spent ages in the shower, as if the hot water could erase what she had done, but all the perfumes in Arabia weren't going to get this situation clean. She could hardly bring herself to look at him when he walked into the flat. Lauren had tactfully gone out.
'I'm here, see? I would never be unfaithful to you,' Jack said as he went to hug her. Instead of returning it Valentine stood stiffly with her arms by her side. She didn't deserve the hug.
'Let's go into the living room,' she mumbled, as if they were acquaintances.
'I was thinking more on the lines of your futon,' Jack said playfully and then froze as he caught sight of Valentine's stricken face. She turned and walked away from him. He sat down on the sofa while she stood by the window. 'I'm really sorry about that magazine story. It's all lies. Yes I was out with Tamara, but we were having coffee and what the picture doesn't show is that Seb was with us as well and he'd just gone to the bathroom or something. I admit that Tamara does seem to have a thing for me, but I don't have any feelings for her. I swear you can trust me.'
Valentine felt as if her mouth were full of dust. She had broken what she had with Jack, smashed it into a million pieces. He didn't know yet, but she would have to tell him.
'But you looked so loved up in the picture,' Valentine said sadly. 'And you were being so nice about her when I was last up in Manchester. And she so obviously wants you.'
'I felt sorry for her, that's all.' He paused then said with passion, 'Valentine, you sound so strange. Has something happened? Because you can trust me; I would never be unfaithful to you. Never. Where were you when I rang last night? I was really worried.'
'I was just out,' she replied, hanging her head in shame. She had been so sure of Jack's guilt. Now she believed him. She had jumped to the wrong conclusion; she had ruined everything.
'Who with?' Jack asked quietly. Then when Valentine didn't answer, he said with more urgency, 'Tell me, who were you with?'
'Finn,' Valentine said, her voice barely audible. 'You see, I thought you were with Tamara, and when you didn't phone I believed that the story must be true.'
Jack had got up from the sofa and was standing in front of her. 'Tell me you just had a drink with him.'
Valentine shook her head; she couldn't speak. But she didn't have to. Her silence said it all.
He gripped her arms tightly, and repeated, 'But it was just a drink, wasn't it?'
Valentine could not bring herself to look at him; she was crying now, hot tears coursing down her cheeks, weeping with shame for what she had done and for what she had lost.
'No!' Jack exclaimed, letting go of her and taking a step backwards as if he couldn't bear to touch her, be close to her. 'You screwed that worthless, gutless shit! How could you? After everything we had together! You were the one, Valentine.'
Now she looked up at him and the full force of what she had done hit her.
'Well, I hope it was worth it for you.' Hurt, anger and something worse in his voice – he despised her.
Valentine wanted to beg him to forgive her, that it was a one-off, that it would never happen again, but the words sounded so hollow and empty even inside her head.
'I love you, Jack,' she whispered.
'No, you don't fucking love me! That's not what love is. You were so quick to believe that I had been unfaithful, all because of what that shit did to you. Maybe you two are meant to be together.' He walked away as if he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. At the doorway he paused and said coldly, 'You deserve each other. For all I know you've been shagging him all along.'
'I haven't, I swear. I made a mistake. I know it sounds mad but I really believed you were with Tamara. Can't you forgive me?'
He shook his head. 'It's over.' And he carried on walking out of the flat.
13
If Only . . .
The next month was a blur. So many times Valentine was on the verge of calling Jack and begging him to forgive her, but she kept remembering the expression on his face when he realised what she'd done. If only she hadn't been so quick to jump to conclusions. If only. If only. If only. The world did not run on 'if only's. Lauren was a true friend, never once saying, 'What the hell did you do that for?' She listened to her endlessly talking about Jack, made her cups of tea, poured her glasses of wine. Never judged her. Her mum and Lottie were brilliant as well and insisted on taking her out to the cinema or inviting her round for dinner, not that she felt like doing anything other than lying in bed. But she appreciated their efforts.
Acting would have been a distraction, but no auditions came through for her. She got a series of temping jobs and felt as if she was sleepwalking through the days, with just misery for company and the painful knowledge that she only had herself to blame. Her nights were given over to fantasising that Jack could forgive her and they'd get back together. She didn't give Finn a second thought. He was away in the States again for another audition and
despite proclaiming that he and Valentine were meant to be together she hardly heard from him.
Then Lauren announced that Nathan had invited her to spend a month with him in San Francisco but that she had said no, because she didn't want to leave Valentine in such a state. Valentine wouldn't hear of it and urged her to go, though she felt the dark side beckoning. Lily and Frank were on her case. She had dreaded telling the old timers about breaking up with Jack, fearing that Lily especially would have a real go at her and tell her how monumentally stupid and selfish she had been. But Lily had just hugged her and said, 'My poor dear Valentine; how wretched you must feel.' And Valentine had cried, and cried and cried till her face was red and blotchy and her eyes were so sore she could hardly open them. Frank had taken to bringing up fresh fruit smoothies every morning which he'd made especially for her, because he and Lily were worried that she wasn't eating. And she wasn't. Not even the siren call of peanut butter could tempt her. How ironic; it seemed she could be fat and happy or thin and unhappy.
She hadn't seen Piers since the disastrous lunch at Nobu, as he'd been away filming, but the day after Lauren's departure she received a call from Greta. Olivia had arranged a birthday surprise for Piers; was Valentine free on Friday? Yes, Valentine was free – her diary was wide open. She was feeling so low she didn't even ask what the surprise was, just registered that she needed to dress for dinner and pack an overnight bag. On the day itself she barely had the energy to get dressed and put on makeup, but she forced herself to go through the motions. Piers seemed pleased to see her and gave her a warm welcome when the chauffeur-driven people-carrier picked her up. Well, warm by his standards – he shook her hand slightly longer than usual. Olivia seemed as cool as ever and the supercilious Saul gave her one of his 'you're not worth my while engaging with' greetings, his gaze fixed just past her shoulder as if looking at someone far more interesting.
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